


we're vivid colour

by miladys-winter (lykxxn)



Series: my wayward son [11]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Crushes, Gen, Kids, Louis and François Talk About Girls, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Religion, but i had way too much fun, but that's it, except sort of not??, half of this is probably historically inaccurate, king louis isn't dead because fuck you history, like louis identifies being pale as a desirable trait?, like they're just kids, matilda the musical references, my girl references, unintentional lion king reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 06:04:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7496760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lykxxn/pseuds/miladys-winter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t like her.”<br/>“Why not?”<br/>“She’s really pretty.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	we're vivid colour

**Author's Note:**

> François - 10  
> Louis - 8  
> Philippe - 6  
> Raoul - 6  
> Roselle - 6  
> Élise - 4

“Sorry you couldn’t come to see me last week,” apologises Louis. He and François are sat, cross-legged, on the floor of Louis’s playroom. “My cousin came from Spain.”

“Oh,” says François, intrigued. “What’s she like?”

“I don’t like her.”

“Why not?”

“She’s really pretty.”

François frowns. “So what?”

“She’s _pretty_ ,” stresses Louis. “She’s got brown hair and her skin’s nice and _pale_!” He scowls. “She wears these really frilly dresses and she plays with _dolls_.”

“So what?” asks François. “Lots of girls play with dolls.”

“Roselle doesn’t,” counters Louis. “She plays Musketeers with us.”

François shrugs. “But that’s _Roselle_. And she’s only six. I imagine when she’s older she’ll start wearing dresses too.”

“Do you think Roselle is pretty?” presses the younger boy.

“Of course I do,” replies François confidently. “She’s pretty just like Aunt Connie and my mamma … and your mamma, too.”

“No, not like that! Do you think she’s pretty like your papa thinks your mamma’s pretty?” Louis cocks his head to one side. “Would you kiss her?”

“I kiss her all the time; you know that.”

“Would you kiss her on the lips?” The Dauphin grins.

“Eww! No way!” François turns his head to the side and makes a retching sound. “Why would you want to kiss anyone?”

“I don’t know,” the Prince says, “but lots of people do it. My mamma and papa do it.”

“Yeah,” says François, “so do mine. But that’s _different_. They have to, because they’re married.”

“So why do people get married?”

“I don’t know,” says François. “I guess when you grow up, you just _have_ to. Otherwise, you’re not a real grown-up.”

Louis gasps in shock. “Then I should get married now!”

“Why?”

“Or I’m not a grown-up!”

François laughs. “You wouldn’t be a grown-up even if you _did_ get married. You’re only eight. And anyway, they wouldn’t let you get married.” Louis folds his arms. “You’ve got nobody to get married _to_.”

“I could marry you,” suggests the Dauphin.

“Don’t be silly! You can’t marry me, I’m a boy. You can only marry a girl.”

“Why?” presses the younger boy.

“Because God said so, and my mamma says you have to do what God tells you to.”

“But I want to be a grown-up!” he whines.

“You’ll be a grown-up in ten years,” says François. “Grown-ups are eighteen and older. I know because I asked my papa and he told me. Besides, you don’t want to be a grown-up. Grown-ups aren’t allowed to play horses.”

“That’s silly,” says Louis. “When I grow up, I’m gonna play horses all the time, and I’m gonna go to sleep whenever I want, and then I’m gonna get up whenever I want. And when I grow up, I get to be King too, so I’m gonna make it the law that everybody gets to eat sweets all the time, and vegetables are illegal.”

“Yeah!” grins François. “I think you should be friends with the King of Italy, too, so you can get ice-cream for free! And then we can eat ice-cream _all_ day—”

“— _every_ day!” The Dauphin giggles. “That sounds so fun! I can’t wait to be King!”

“Me either. Hey, do you think I can be a Duke or something?”

“You can be a Duke _and_ my best friend. That means you get invited to all my parties and you can sit in a special seat next to me and help me make the _biggest_ tower of cake ever! And then when it gets late we can swing our feet as much as we want and we won’t get in trouble if we kick people because I’ll be the King and nobody can tell the King what to do!”

François grins. “You’re my best friend ever.”

“You’re my bestest best friend ever ever,” says Louis. “We’re gonna be best friends forever, right?”

“Forever.”

**Author's Note:**

> Fun Fact:  
> Maria Theresa, who was mentioned at the start of the fic, was Louis XIV's first wife as well as his cousin.


End file.
